I remember Angeline as someone who reached out to me nearly 18 years ago when I was feeling alone and isolated. She enveloped me with kindness, humor, and wisdom far beyond her years. I never understood why she wanted to be my friend, but I am so grateful she did.

When I was down or overwhelmed, Angeline knew exactly what I needed. Sometimes, she’d give me a book—nothing heavy, usually some light, escapist romance novel. And when I was upset or angry, she’d invite me out for drinks and listen patiently as I ranted until I was all ranted out.

There were countless small, thoughtful gestures that made her such a special person. She’d buy a pair of theater tickets and give me one for no reason at all, just to be kind. And no matter how much I insisted on paying her back, she wouldn’t take my money.

She made homemade dog biscuits for all the dog lovers in our office, just because. That was Angeline—generous, thoughtful, and always kind.

Angeline helped me navigate a difficult world. While life wasn’t always kind to her, she was always kind to me—and to almost everyone. She inspired me to be like her, and she still does.

I still strive to be an Angeline, though I know I’ll never fully live up to her example. But I’ll always try.

Angeline was so many things: a teacher, a drinking buddy, a therapist, a literary critic, a Real Housewives of New Jersey critic, a dog mom who absolutely spoiled her pups, an empath, and above all, a wonderful friend.

I regret that I wasn’t as good a friend in return. The last time she called, I didn’t pick up. “Regret” doesn’t even begin to express how I feel about that.

She left us too soon. But she’ll always stay with me. I’ll think of her when I pick up a trashy novel, when I do something kind for someone else, or when I listen to someone vent until they’re calm again. And each time, I’ll think, “This is what Angeline would do.”

And I will miss her.